Post 32 Trickle Down?

TRICKLE DOWN? 

Trickle down? It’s a lying headline claim
Those well paid ‘finance’ plumbers check the drain
And if they find an unexpected flow
They ‘plumb’ it back to where it’s meant to go
Into the well protected storage tanks
Or as we’ve learned to call them, savings banks

That’s why trickle down is mindless speak
Because the plumbers always plug the leak
With all the cash big business has to spare
You’d think they wouldn’t mind, or have a care
If some escaped and dribbled to the ground
Where it was saved and spent when it was found

Those poorer folk who have an urgent need
Of trickle down; will never ‘tap’ the greed
Of surplus cash; unjust liquidity
It’s always been the same through history
We’ve never seen the excess profits flow
Down to the needy, waiting far below

 

Further to my post ‘Growth is Good?‘ (30) I am minded to describe our experiences of some examples of a non ‘trickle down’ economic model.

We have been lucky enough to visit Morocco three times in the past; once in 1968/69, and twice in 2007/08 and 2015. During these visits I was often struck by the methods employed by market traders in selling their wares.

In 1968/69 we arrived in the (then) tiny and beautiful village of Azrou; situated to the north of the Moyen Atlas mountain range. Here the scenery was more reminiscent of Switzerland than Africa; with chalet style architecture and stunning views of mountain peaks. We turned into the village open air market, situated on a small patch of ground on the outskirts of the village, to buy some oranges.

We had, almost, become addicted to these small sweet juicy fruits; so different from the large dry and fibrous variety that were the only option in the home country. In most parts of Morocco they were as ‘cheap as chips’; and could often be seen being sold by numerous market stalls, situated underneath trees overladen with the very same product. As we toured the many Azrou stalls, we realised that here they were expensive! Utilising our new found skills of barter, we trekked from stall to stall, attempting to get a better bargain. The smiling traders sent us on to the next stall, but the price never varied. In this mountain region oranges were expensive; and those traders had obviously agreed a price among themselves; a community decision that benefited all.

A very similar experience was had in Essaouira, a fishing village to the west of Marrakesh. We stayed here a whole month; and spent many happy hours shopping along the rows of stalls for our daily provisions. Again, we came across the same unspoken rule. Traders never dropped their price below that of their neighbouring stall; and would happily regard us trying to get a better bargain further along the street, with shouts and laughter at our failure; which was worth it for the theatre and entertainment value it provided.

Many years later, when we were mature travellers in our own transport, we revisited both these villages; which had now changed out of all recognition. Both had become go to destinations for, mainly, European tourists. In the souks, prices were understandably higher for those tourists, but the same principal that we had experienced all those years before was still followed; namely that given the limited amount of cash available to most Moroccan citizens, the profits gained by the traders was equally shared out among their number; not inflated by ‘middle men’, or big business. So, even though you could have a whole street of babouche sellers, or greengrocers, or meat vendors, the local market economy thrived on small trade; and lots of it; and customers benefited from the stable price principal.

On our last visit in 2015, we did see what appeared to be an attempt to attract the populace into the supermarket ideology. On the outskirts of Goulamine, a city in Southern Morocco, we found a huge white warehouse like building, situated in a large barren and windy plain. The French supermarket influence was obvious. We were one of only a handful of vehicles parked in the enormous car park; which was surrounded with high wire fencing and gates that were locked come evening.

Inside the products on sale were hugely expensive; the fruit and vegetables were, not only overpriced, but of no better quality than you could find in any market souk; and looked like they were well past their sell by date! Judging by the cars outside, the few customers appeared to be well off Moroccans, eager to try out the ‘modern’ European supermarket shopping experience. It was obvious that no financial benefits from the profits made would be ‘trickled down’ to the locals.

That was the last time we visited Morocco; and it’s extremely unlikely that we will ever return. But I do hope that the system of many traders and equal shares of limited profit has survived.